


The End of the World Survivors Club

by OrchisAilsa



Series: To the End of Time and Back [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode Related, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Infidelity, M/M, Multi, POV Martha Jones, Porn With Plot, Threesome, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 21:29:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4074499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrchisAilsa/pseuds/OrchisAilsa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set between Dead Man Walking and A Day in the Death. Jack won't discuss what happened when he went to find the Doctor and Ianto isn't happy. Martha finds herself caught between them as they argue, then in an entirely different way as they kiss and make up. E for sexy situations and a bit of infidelity. Technically a sequel to my story "Just Tonight," but references are minimal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can imagine that the things Jack and Martha endured might be the sorts of things that stick with you for a long time, and so I wanted to provide them with a little catharsis which I feel like we didn't get in either Doctor Who or Torchwood. I also wanted to take Jack and Ianto out to play with them for a while. This story has allowed me to do both, and I hope you enjoy it. xxo! --OA

 

_Gwen: So you and Jack go back a long way, eh?_

_Martha: Forward and back, really._

_Gwen: What brought you together?_

_Martha: Let's say... we were under the same Doctor."_

* * *

The chaos at the hospital had finally passed. Back at the hub, Martha felt completely wrung out. The rapid aging (and de-aging) had taken its toll on her, for sure.  

 

It seemed she would need to stay on at Torchwood 3 for awhile as their official medical doctor, much to Owen's chagrin.

Jack was setting up Owen again in a room for the night, demanding that he stay for further observation, and both Gwen and Tosh had finally cleared out to go home and sleep, leaving Martha alone in the conference room with her heavy thoughts.  
  
Ianto walked in with two mugs of coffee, startling her as he entered. Taking the cup he offered she smiled gratefully at him. She thought, as she observed him quietly, that he looked like he had something on his mind as well.  
  
"You were with him," Ianto stated bluntly when he finally spoke. It wasn't a question. "You were there, when he left us. When he went off with his doctor."  
  
_Ah. This. Of course._  
  
Martha smiled wryly at his guarded, slightly envious tone. She had heard it often enough from her friends and coworkers at UNIT.  
  
"Ah... yeah. Yeah, I was," she confessed. "For some of the time."  
  
He sipped his cappuccino and stared at her.  
  
 "What happened?" he asked as she took a sip of her own coffee.  
  
"You don't know?" Her voice even sounded hollow to her own ears. She wasn't particularly shocked. Martha had never breathed a word of her tale of The Year to anyone besides her family. Who else could ever understand?  
  
But, then again, Jack didn't have family. She would have expected him to share his story with someone, and Ianto would have been the likeliest choice. Had he really spoken to no one? The idea worried her.  
  
"He left us," Ianto said, sounding uncharacteristically meek. "He always looked after us. He was our leader. He didn't kick me out even after-- He was good to me. To us. And... Then he left. Without a word. And he took that awful hand in a jar. He had said that this doctor was the only one who could help him, make him normal again. Two months later he reappears. And he's the same. Not "normal." Only now he has more nightmares, and he never talks about any doctors. What happened?"  
  
Her throat burned and her eyes filled with tears as he spoke. Her heart sank as she relived hundreds of lonely nights, sleeping under the roofs of strangers as she traveled, alone, preaching her singular gospel as she clung to desperate shreds of hope and sanity.  
  
Opening her mouth to speak, she found she couldn't. She looked at Ianto pleadingly and shook her head.  
  
"That good, eh?" Ianto said bitterly, draining his coffee and setting the mug down on the table with a dull thump. "That doctor must be a real piece of work. Look at you two. You're both a wreck. And it's been months."  
  
Ianto thought it was the Doctor who had hurt them? Martha's misery flared into rage and her gaze turned to ice.  
  
"Do not ever say anything like that about him. Not one word. Not ever. You're only alive today because of the sacrifices he made. The things he and Jack survived-"  
  
"You did a fair amount of surviving yourself, Martha Jones," came a low voice from the doorway.  
  
Both Ianto and Martha jumped, startled. Jack walked towards them, coming to stand behind Martha and place a hand on each of her shoulders. She leaned back in her chair, resting her head on his chest and slowly inhaling his familiar, comforting scent to calm her pounding heart. Despite his cool demeanor, though, Jack was wound as tight as a bow string. She could feel the tension as she leaned against him.  
  
Ianto looked at the contact between her and Jack and grew more agitated, running a hand through his hair.  
  
"Ianto," Martha began again, less angry now, but more tired, "It's not that we're hiding things from you. It's that talking about it makes it feel real again."  
  
Ianto nodded stiffly. Jack scoffed.  
  
"I've told you all of this before, Ianto."  
  
"He only wants to help," Martha offered uselessly to Jack, turning to look sadly into his beautiful face.  
  
"He can't." Jack's voice was bitter and jaded and he wouldn't meet either of their eyes. "I'd say it's because you can't undo the past... But we did undo the past. And it still isn't okay."  
  
They let that hang in the silence for a moment. And then she disengaged from him and walked to stand beside Ianto.  
  
"Who is it that you do speak to, Jack?" Martha asked. "Is there anyone you confide in? You need to find a way to work through some of the things you've seen and endured, before you crack under the pressure."  
  
"It wouldn't help."  
  
"Liar," Martha accused. "You're a human being, Jack. Sharing your burden always helps."  
  
"I wouldn't--" Jack began.  
  
"Jack," Martha protested, "Every day. He killed you every day for a year. Every day, nothingness. No one should handle that burden alone."  
  
"Martha..." Jack warned.  
  
"Who?" Ianto asked. "Who did that to you? Was it that doctor?"  
  
"No!" they chorussed in unison, appalled. And then they looked deeply at each other, bittersweet as they both remembered their Doctor who they loved so deeply cradling their dying enemy and begging him to live. As much as they understood his loneliness, that moment had cut like a betrayal.  
  
"You lived a year?" Ianto asked, with a gulp, tearing them from their reverie. "How?"  
  
"'Live' is a strong word," Jack replied mirthlessly, looking to the sky. "We survived for a year. We existed. And then we undid it. It was... There were time travelers."  
  
That didn't actually explain what had happened at all, but Martha knew Jack still didn't want to get into any more specific details.  
  
"Someone killed you every day?" Ianto asked with horror.  
  
Jack nodded, refusing to meet his lover's eyes.  
  
"And were you ever going to tell me?"  
  
Jack looked at his feet. Martha glanced between them, seeing the disconnect.  
  
Ianto started to walk away, eyes averted.  
  
"No!" She implored. "Ianto, it's not like that. What we lived through... It didn't happen. It was reversed. The Doctor reversed it."  
  
"You reversed it," Jack corrected her, pointedly.  
  
"Whatever. That's not important. The point is, it was undone. It never happened. Only ten people in the universe remember that timeline. Can you blame us for wanting to bury it? Erase it? Banish it? It was hell."  
  
Ianto shook his head in frustration.  
  
"I just..." He was speaking to Martha but his words were obviously meant for Jack. "It's just one more place he goes in his head that I can't follow. Where I can't help. Where he's trying to protect me. And I'm not a child. I don't want to be protected."  
  
Martha nodded her understanding, recalling how similarly she had felt about the Doctor's mercurial mood swings, back when she was traveling in the TARDIS, and she felt a fierce pang of sympathy for the young man.  
  
Ianto took a deep breath and went on, facing Jack this time.  
  
"Whatever this is," he gestured vaguely between the two of them, "it won't ever work if you can't see us as equals. And I do want it to work."  
  
It was a huge thing for the taciturn Welshman to admit, and Martha knew it. Ianto cared. Ianto was strong, and he deserved to have a chance to prove it.  
  
"Jack," she said softly, turning around to look at him, "you didn't let _him_  carry his burden alone."  
  
He met her eyes with a hard gaze, both of them thinking back to that desperate night in the warehouse a lifetime ago.  
  
"I'm no good at talking."  
  
"So don't talk. He didn't. But you can't just hold it in. It will eat you alive. You have to let go of your grief and tension somehow, too."  
  
"What are you suggesting, Martha Jones?" Jack asked darkly. His eyes flashed with something wicked.  
  
She just raised an eyebrow and stared at him, unwilling to let him see how he affected her, even as a sharp, hot desire began to pool in her belly.  
  
Jack and Martha stood there for a moment, staring tensely at each other, until Ianto broke the silence.  
  
"Fuck this. I can't deal with this today. Anyone fancy a drink?"


	2. Chapter 2

_Martha: So, Jack asked me if I could get you a UNIT cap to wear._  
_Ianto: Did he!? Well... red... is my colour._  
_Martha: So, am I right in thinking that you and he..._  
_Ianto: We... dabble..._  
_Martha: Yeah?_  
_Ianto: Yeah._  
_Martha: So... what's his dabbling like?_  
_Ianto: Innovative._  
_Martha: Really?_  
_Ianto: Bordering on the avant garde._  
_Martha: Wow.  
_ _Ianto: Oh yeah... huh..._

* * *

Martha looked down into her third (was it her third?) tumbler of Glenmorangie with an odd mix of amusement and trepidation. She was a bit tipsy.

It felt good to be a bit tipsy, though, she decided. Martha Jones spent far too much of her life being responsible, saving the world, and protecting the innocent, and not nearly enough time relaxing.

Besides, she thought, it seemed that she wasn't alone. Ianto and Jack were enjoying their relaxation as much as she was, if their reddened cheeks and casual, unguarded affection were anything to go by.

She was happy to see them both smiling. They would have to talk out their issues eventually, despite Jack's reluctance; Ianto wasn't going to let the matter rest, and she believed he shouldn't have to. Jack may be the most charming man she ever knew, but even he couldn't distract his lover indefinitely from their issues. Tonight he was doing his best to try, though. And tonight, after the horrors of the past two days, maybe that was okay.

The tension between them had been eased, at least for the moment. They were in their element now: the sensual, the impulsive. It suited them far better than reluctant domestic squabbles.

They were beautiful together, she thought happily as she watched them banter and tease from her spot across the small table in Jack's room. They had already been through a lot as a couple and they were growing stronger because of it, despite the emotional frustrations they were dealing with. The way they looked at each other when they weren't being cautious for the benefit of others warmed her heart, and it also gave her a small, unexpected sense of longing.

She would probably never have anything like that with Tom, she realized with a pang of sadness. She had fallen in love with him during The Year, and felt so strongly for him that she had sought him out after the Doctor had set things right. But they had undone the past and Tom Milligan didn't remember any of the time they had spent together as freedom fighters. He was still him, of course, but this fresh, unscathed version of the man she loved simply wasn't quite the same. He would never understand the extent of her battle scars, or the nightmares that woke her up screaming. He would never share the memory of the reasons she had truly begun to love him in the first place; those moments had simply never existed in his timeline. Also, because of the nature of her security clearance, he would never really know what she went through on a daily basis working for U.N.I.T. There was so much she couldn't share with him. At least Jack and Ianto never had to lie to each other about the details of their daily lives, no matter how reluctant Jack was to discuss matters of the heart.

Martha suddenly realized she was not only wallowing in self pity, but actually envying the simplicity of one of Jack Harkness' romantic relationships. The thought made her laugh, and Jack glanced up at her with glittering blue eyes.

"What are you looking at, Martha Jones?" he demanded playfully, pausing momentarily in his flirtation with Ianto. She suspected they had forgotten she was even there, for a moment.

"Two gorgeous men," she replied without hesitation, her tongue loosened by the whisky warming her insides, "who needn't behave themselves on my account."

Ianto blushed furiously as he snapped his head up to meet her eyes. She winked at him and he smiled, clearly a bit shy under her scrutiny.

Jack, never anything close to shy, moved to kiss Ianto deeply, full on the mouth, clearly showing off for her benefit. The passion and love she could see between them made her weak at the knees. Watching Jack seduce someone was like watching a master chef cook. Her mouth actually watered at the heat and beauty of the scene in front of her and she hummed softy in pleasure as she watched the moment unfold, heat blossoming in her core as she stared at them.

"Martha likes to watch, Ianto," he whispered between kisses, loud enough for her to hear, and then it was her turn to blush.

It was true, though, and Jack knew that very well. Denying it was pointless.

"I should head to bed," she said regretfully when they came up for air, "and give you two some privacy."

She knocked back the last of her whisky in one sip, then stood up and pushed in her chair.

"No need to leave now, Miss Jones," Jack grinned, the invitation shining in his glittering eyes. "There is more than enough of Ianto here to go around, if you'd care for a taste."

He nipped at Ianto's ear suggestively, but the smaller man ducked out of the way, smiling, and turned to gauge her reaction to Jack's words.

Martha laughed and bit her lip. A taste of Ianto? That was tempting indeed. But she really shouldn't. Her gaze flickered to her shoes, then back up to Jack. She  _really_  shouldn't.

She caught Ianto's eye. He smiled at her coyly. He didn't want her to leave either...

Jack looked at her knowingly as she deliberated. In the brief moment of her hesitation he came to stand behind her and pulled her back up against his chest. She laughed and relaxed into his arms, tilting her head back to smirk at him, enjoying how warm and solid he felt against her back.

"Just what do you think you're doing, hm?" she asked with a playfully raised eyebrow.

 _And just what sort of behavior are you entertaining right now, Doctor Jones?_  the responsible voice in her head demanded to know.

"Nothing," he replied, nipping gently at her neck and collarbone until she felt shivers down her spine, "unless you want it to be something. What do you want, Doctor Jones?"

"I do have a boyfriend," she said aloud, dutifully, wanting to remind herself as much as him, even as she turned in the circle of his arms to face him. "I wasn't just saying that to try and scare off Owen."

"Hm, that was not an answer to my question. Are you telling me to stop?" Jack asked softy, going still, his breath hot against the side of her neck as he pulled her closer against him. She felt her skin break out in goose flesh.

She most certainly did not want him to stop. She _should_  want him to stop. But she didn't.

"I'm telling you I can't kiss you," she replied evasively, feeling her self control falter as Jack's hands tightened on her hips.

"She's definitely not telling you to stop," Ianto commented. She glanced over her shoulder at him and was met with a mischievous grin.

His impish smile warmed her insides.

"Martha can't kiss me, Ianto," Jack complained, squeezing her hips lightly. Then he smiled wickedly and said, "But you can."

Ianto's eyes sparkled brighter as they appeared to share some sort of silent communication that Martha didn't understand. Her stomach fluttered in nervous anticipation, of what she wasn't sure.

Slowly, still smiling, Ianto came up behind her, gazing at Jack, moving closer until Martha's small body was trapped between them. The scent of their mingled aftershaves was far more intoxicating than the whisky she'd had. Martha felt the glow of attraction in her belly warming to a slow, steady arousal as Ianto pressed his chest lightly against her back.

Oh, she shouldn't be doing this.

Jack leaned forward over Martha's shoulder to capture Ianto's lips with his own, and Martha felt the younger man's hands come to rest on top of Jack's at her hips. The two men threaded their fingers together, and Martha shivered at the intimacy of the gesture.

They stayed like that for a while, kissing each other again and again over her shoulder. Every so often Jack would moan and push his hips into hers while Ianto pressed his weight gently forward against her back.

Martha whimpered as she felt herself growing wet. Their reactions to each other - and perhaps to her as well - were unbelievably erotic, and, trapped between them as she was, it was quickly becoming overwhelming.

Ianto's hands moved slowly up and down along her body, barely brushing the sides of her breasts.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and dark. She whimpered and let her head roll back onto his shoulder as Jack hummed his agreement. But Ianto still didn't kiss her. She had, after all, told them they couldn't.

Jack began to angle one of his his legs between hers, sliding his thigh between her knees to give her a hint of pressure where she wanted it most. A breathy moan escaped her lips, and the heat between her legs seemed to triple in intensity, at least.

Ianto's teeth grazed her ear, lightly biting the back of her neck before leaning forward to kiss Jack once again. When he moved she could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing into her ass and she groaned as her hips pushed back against him of their own volition.

Leaning close to her ear, Jack whispered, "Are you sure about this? Just say the word."

He was giving her an out, an escape route, in case she was having second thoughts.

She wasn't.

"Don't stop," she whispered desperately.

She could feel his lips curve into a smile against her neck as he leaned down to kiss her collarbone.

She squirmed within the confines of her jeans, grinding harder against Jack's thigh and back into Ianto's hips.

Ianto reached around her torso to rest his hands on her ribs just below her breasts, maddeningly close without actually touching. She arched her back, trying to twist until his warm palms would graze her aching nipples, but he was having none of it. He laughed as she groaned in frustration, and his breath tickled the hairs on the back of her neck.

Jack, whose hands were still on her hips, pulled her firmly against him, pressing her pelvis down against his muscular thigh. She raised her eyes to meet his, sparking brilliant blue above his flushed cheeks, and he winked at her before leaning over her shoulder once again to kiss his lover.

Together the two men rocked against her, setting a slow, steady pace that made her whimper as the warm pressure within her kept building slowly, relentlessly.

The soft undulations of their hips carried her almost off of her feet in sort of an erotic dance, causing the heat inside her to grow even more, very, very slowly.

Too slowly. It just wasn't enough.

After a while, Martha thought she would scream in frustration from the promise of release that hovered just on the edge of her senses.

She craved Jack's strong, warm hands in her most intimate places, and the feeling of Ianto's cock pressed hard against her ass - so close to and yet so far from where she needed it to find her relief - made her feel like she was going insane. She squirmed within their arms, trying to find more friction, more pressure - anything. But despite her frustrated writhing, both men kept their slow, steady pace.

Martha groaned in desperation as they leaned over her to share another tender kiss, continuing to stoke the flames within her while the peak of her passion hovered just out of reach.

"More," she begged at last, breaking the thick silence, her voice breathy and hot, pleading with them to forget their infuriating teasing game.

"Please."

The two men exchanged a meaningful glance over her head, and Jack nodded almost imperceptibly.

Ianto leaned down and bit her shoulder lightly, driving his hips hard against her ass and Martha thought for the hundredth time that she might lose her mind.

Jack held her and looked down into her eyes, his own blue ones dark with passion. He smiled at the desperate expression he found on her face.

"Show me what you want," he whispered in a low, urgent voice, finally relenting in his teasing. "Show us."

At this point Martha had no reservations or modesty left to inhibit her. Wantonly, brazenly, she complied.

Deliberately, without taking her eyes off of Jack's, she took one of his hands from its resting spot on her hip and placed it at her hot center. His cheeks flushed darker and she could tell he could feel that the wetness had soaked through her knickers and jeans.

"Martha jones, you are amazing," he breathed.

Ianto hummed his agreement, raking his fingers up her sides underneath the hem of her shirt and nipping softly along her neck with his teeth.

She gasped as Jack started to move his hand.

As he proceeded to trace small, deliberate circles at her core, Martha arched her back and gracelessly pulled Ianto's hands around to her aching breasts. At last he touched her there, kneading and pinching her swollen flesh, all the more tender from the teasing, making her moan his name.

_Yes. This. Finally._

The storm within her grew impossibly stronger until she was reduced to whimpering incoherently between the two men, taking short, panting breaths in her haze of pleasure.

"Come for us, Martha," Jack whispered as her head fell forward onto his shoulder, legs trembling and reeling from the touch of his expert fingers. "I want Ianto to see how beautiful you are when you come. Show us, Martha."

She gasped and writhed against their bodies, climbing higher and higher in her passion.

"Now," Ianto whispered, thrusting his hips forward to push his swollen cock harder against her and press her hips more firmly against Jack's fingers.

And then, suddenly, with a white-hot explosion behind her eyelids, she was lost.

As the wave of pleasure created over her, she cried out helplessly and convulsed between the two strong, solid bodies that held her.

They held her through her release, only stepping away when it was clear she was standing on her own two feet.

Collapsing back into her chair at the table, Martha reeled, amazed at the fact that she'd just had one of the most erotic experiences of her life without even unbuttoning her trousers.

 _And without even a single kiss_ , she though to herself. They followed her rule - and only that rule - to the letter.  _That's Jack Harkness for you._

She turned her attention back to the two men in front of her, basking in the afterglow of her orgasm. Ianto and Jack devoured each other's mouths and tore at their clothes, stumbling to sit facing each other on the couch as they hastily freed their erections from the confines of their trousers.

Lost in each other completely, foreheads pressed together, panting, Ianto took both of their cocks in hand and jack wrapped his fist around Ianto's. Together they worked with a familiarity born from experience and affection, until they came, Jack with a low, aching groan and Ianto with a gasp.

Martha hummed appreciatively, then poured them a large glass of water from the table which they accepted appreciatively.

After they finished the water and the two men cleaned themselves up, the three of them looked at each other: breathing heavily, disheveled hair, swollen lips, and clothes in disarray, and they all burst out laughing.

"Here's to the end of the world," Jack proclaimed, reaching for the bottle of scotch and filling three shot glasses. Ianto and Martha took theirs in hand, and returned his toast.

"To the end of the world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's always hard for me to put characters I love in morally questionable situations, but I'm glad I did because one one of the things I find so compelling about Martha is the fact that she's so real and relatable, and the truth is that real people don't always make the most virtuous option when faced with a choice. Additionally, I've always been really confused and annoyed that she was engaged to this fabulous Tom fellow, when all of a sudden he vanishes without a trace and now Martha's with Mickey. My headcanon here is that Martha couldn't handle being with someone "normal" after all she's seen and been through, especially working for a secret organization like UNIT… so I thought I'd sew the seeds of that here. Hope you enjoyed it! xxo, O.A.


	3. Chapter 3

_Jack: Do you miss him?  
_ _Martha: No. I made my choice! ... Maybe sometimes._

* * *

The next day Martha woke up and smiled. Had that really happened? It surely felt like a dream. But after she'd showered and dressed and made her way to the main area of the hub, Ianto greeted her with a hot cappuccino and a mischievous, knowing smile.

Not a dream then.

Martha took the coffee and smiled back at him, enjoying their little secret as Gwen and Tosh bustled in and prepared for the work day ahead of them.

"Doctor Jones!"

Martha jumped at the sound of Jack's voice, calling her from his office.

"Yes?"

"A word?" he requested.

"On my way!" she called back, and made her way to him.

She seated herself at his desk, sipping her delicious coffee. Jack was toying absentmindedly with a pair of paper 3-D glasses that dangled from a lampshade to his right. He only fidgeted when he was nervous. She sighed, realizing what was coming.

"I wanted to check in with you today," he said simply, looking up to meet her eyes. "Last night..."

"Was amazing," she assured him, holding up a hand to silence him as she spoke. She absolutely did not want to have a conversation about morality before breakfast. "Jack, I'm fine."

"It's okay if you aren't," he told her earnestly, without any of his typical flirting or teasing. "We all get caught up in the moment sometimes, and I know better than most people that choices made in the dark can look very different in the light of day."

"I knew what I was doing," she assured him. "I'm not like some poor Little Red Riding Hood waiting for the Big Bad Wolf to lead me astray."

Jack chuckled.

"Fair enough. If anyone here was ever led astray by the big Bad Wolf, I promise you it was me."

Martha was going to ask what he meant, but his eyes had gone to that far away place that meant he was lost for a moment in the distant past. Or future, as it were. She opted to let it go, instead gazing quietly at his lovely face, the brilliant blue of his eyes, and those soft lips she'd still never kissed. She really wished she hadn't made that stupid rule.

"I know you have an amazing, gorgeous, talented medical doctor at home waiting for your return," he commented when he came back to himself.

"Yeah, I guess I do," she replied, anxiety creeping into her guts. She didn't really want to think about this before breakfast either.

Jack raised an eyebrow at the uncertainty in her tone.

Martha looked back at him and sighed.

"I'm just... not sure about him," she confessed. "He's crazy about me. I know he's going to ask me to marry him soon..."

"And what's so bad about that?" Jack asked.

"It's just... I first met him... when the world was ending. He was amazing. He was kind to me. He was so wonderful I had to seek him out again afterwards. But... All of the things that first made me love him..."

"They never happened," he finished, understanding immediately. Of course he understood.

"Right. And I keep telling myself that no one knows, that no one will ever be able to know what it was like, what we went through, so wishing for that sort of connection is pointless. I know that's true. And he's still the same wonderful man I knew before, even if he doesn't remember meeting me the first time. But... I dunno. Never mind me. Emotional Martha, doesn't know how to accept the good things in her life without making them hard."

Jack reached across the desk to take her hand in his.

"It is hard. You're not making it hard. But I would regret if our actions last night made it harder. You're my friend first, Martha. Before any of the other crap."

She smiled at him and shrugged.

"Last night happened because I wanted it to happen. I have to lie and omit so many things to Tom anyway, between The Year and my work at UNIT, just to seem like I'm not a total nutter and that I'm capable of having a normal relationship. What's one more?"

Jack knit his eyebrows and the empathy in his beautiful blue eyes made her stomach ache. He wasn't going to say it but his thoughts showed plain on his face: no one who had experienced things like they had would ever really be "normal," again, would they?

They had traveled with the Doctor and seen things most people couldn't even dream of. They survived the end of the world and turned back time. Jack was from a planet the human race wouldn't see for millennia, and had been rendered immortal by a force he could never fully understand. They were both damaged and scarred and world weary and most people would never even believe their war stories if they told them. "Normal" would never again be anything more than a charade for them, and they both knew it.

Jack stood and came around the desk, offering a hand to help her out of her chair.

"You'll figure it out, Martha Jones," he said, pulling her into a warm, close hug. "And no matter what happens, I want to say thank you for last night. It was absolutely fantastic."

* * *

It was time to go home.

Owen smiled at her, looking as close to happy as she'd seen him since the terrible incident that had taken his life.

 _And saved yours_ , she reminded herself somberly.

She smiled laughed as he told her there were no vacancies yet for her at Torchwood, and she did her best to return his lighthearted banter. But when they hugged she found she had trouble letting go of his too-cold body, lost in thought about what he'd gone through and the debt she owed him.

"Oi," Jack called after a while, startling her out of her reverie. She and Owen stepped back, and she said her farewells to the rest of the team, smirking just a little at the delicate, chaste kiss on the cheek Ianto gave her.

 _Such a contrast_ , she thought to herself, _to the kisses I saw him exchange with Jack..._

They were good together, Jack and Ianto. Martha hoped they would be able to overcome their communication problems and find happiness together. Not that she had any place to judge anyone about communication problems.

She hugged Gwen fondly, then finally, she approached Jack, suddenly reluctant to leave. So few people understood her the way he did. So few people could ever really know her.

"Well," she said, smiling up at him, "It's been... interesting."

"Oh," Jack scoffed dismissively, "it's been fun! You know it has."

She smiled up at him as he spoke, entranced by his glittering eyes. And then, overwhelmed by all of the emotions and the "what-ifs" that filled her thoughts, she flung herself towards him, pressing her lips desperately to his for just a moment.

He looked at her, thoughtful and curious, as she pulled away. After everything, in the end she had broken her own rule.

"Well, everyone else has had a go!" she laughed, trying to keep the depths of her emotions out of her tone. She suddenly desperately wanted to throw herself back into his arms and beg him to take her back to the hub for even just one more night.

Jack wasn't fooled by her bravado. He walked up to her and cradled her face in his warm hand, his gentle kindness bringing tears to her eyes.

"You can so come back anytime," he promised her.

Martha smiled, knowing he wasn't just offering her a job. He was offering her solace, understanding, and companionship.

"Well," she told him, "maybe I will... One day."

In that moment she wanted nothing more than to stay, in a place where she didn't feel quite so alone, but she knew she'd never be able to live with the guilt of abandoning the duty she felt to UNIT, and to Tom. She owed them better than that. And running away from worries rarely solved them in the long term.

Traveling with the Doctor had changed her. The Master had broken her, in ways from which she would never recover. She was battered and damaged and the girl she had been when she met the Doctor was gone forever, replaced by a hardened, worldly young woman with nerves of steel and a will of iron.

 _But we all change,_  she realized.  _Everyone grows up. Everyone leaves behind the child they once were. My time with the Doctor changed me, sure. But without him, where would I be? He gave me the confidence I need to be who I am. He gave Jack a moral compass and the drive to make the world a better place. He showed us a better way to see the universe. A better way to live our lives. And now it's time for me to go live mine._

And so Martha Jones took her bags, smiled one final time at Jack and the Torchwood crew, and took the first steps towards home.

* * *

_Jack: I'd rely on Martha if the world was ending... And in fact, I did._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've really had a good time here, exploring the ways the Doctor affects people, both positively and negatively, once he's gone... the way he changes them. I hope you've enjoyed reading my take on it. I've also enjoyed sharing my headcanon about Martha's reasons for eventually leaving Tom Mulligan. I think both Martha and Jack have a tendency to be written as very two-dimensional, a lot of the time, which is a shame since they're both so very complex... and I really hope I've managed to do them justice here for you. Thank you for reading! Have a wonderful day. xxo! -O.A.


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